


Interlude: Spades

by ChemiToo



Series: Stoneset [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cardverse, Kingdom of Spades, M/M, this isn't really continuous from the last part of the series but it sort of is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2018-12-30 08:31:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChemiToo/pseuds/ChemiToo
Summary: How it all began for Alfred and Arthur.





	1. Chapter 1

They had mystified him, ever since the first time he had seen them. Tiny, blue, and shimmering, they danced along the hedges beside his house in the early hours of the night. He had been a young child then, barely able to make sense of what he was seeing, and had come to accept them as commonplace. Simply another part of the world he lived in.

As he had gotten older, he saw them more frequently. They would appear during daylight hours, peeking out from behind fences or walls whenever he was out. In the light, he could make out their tiny little limbs, their pale faces. Like tiny people, really, speaking in tongues and voices barely above whispers. They didn't frighten him, but he did find it curious that the other villagers never discussed them. Perhaps...they couldn't see them? But--

"Arthur?" Alfred asked, frowning at him over his sandwich.

"Hm?" Arthur asked as he looked up at him, peeling his eyes from a cluster of them as they peered at him from around the surrounding shrubs. They were gesturing at him, beckoning him closer. It was odd; they had never interacted with him before. It made them even more human, eerily so, the way their spindly hands reached out toward him like that.

"Something wrong? You're staring out into space," Alfred noted.

"No, it's nothing," Arthur dismissed, "I'm fine, thanks,"

"...'kay," Alfred conceded as he took another bite of sandwich, "Pretty, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Arthur sighed as he started on his own lunch. They were seated on the precipice overlooking the valley below, with an clear view of the lakes and farmlands clustered around them. A network of shining pools, connected by tiny manmade canals and bridges. Visible in the distance, towering and magical, were the turrets of Castle Windsor. Arthur had never seen it up close, but from here he fancied that its archways were studded with gemstones. The rooftops were garnished with bold, bright blues, quite striking against the subtle pale gray of the stone walls. He and Alfred had gathered here since they were children, chatting and taking in the view.

"Man, I wonder what it's like in there," Alfred mused as he finished his sandwich and wiped his hands on his pants, "Probably huge--you think they have ships in there? Like, for training?"

"What?" Arthur laughed, "Alfred, that's ridiculous. The ocean is miles from here,"

"Well yeah but I'll bet you could fit an entire fleet in that castle! Maybe that's where the Queen trains the navy!" Alfred insisted with a frown, pushing his glasses up past the bridge of his nose.

"I highly doubt that, Alfred," Arthur said with a shake of his head, "There's a fortress on an island in the sea that the Queen trains the navy from, remember? Although I imagine it is quite spacious in there," he admitted.

"I wish we could see it," Alfred lamented as he leaned back on his arms and looked up at the sky.

"So do I," Arthur sighed as he finished his lunch and set the basket alongside him, "They say the new King and Queen are due to arrive at any time now,"

"Really?" Alfred asked as he sat up, "How do they know?"

"I'm not sure, but the proclamation from the Jack said that the cycle is fairly consistent. The Queen will emerge usually between fifteen and twenty years after the death of the reigning monarch of Spades," Arthur repeated astutely, "And the King is always discovered within the same year," he added.

"Weird, isn't it?" Alfred mused as he stretched, "I mean, Spades is the only kingdom with those guidelines, right? Where the Jack is in charge for almost two decades like that?"

"I think so, yes," Arthur answered with a smile, "Every kingdom has a different way of identifying its monarchs. Spades is just as unique as the other three, I suppose, in its own way,"

"Hm," Alfred hummed as he looped his arm over Arthur's shoulders. Arthur chuckled, leaning into him and watching the shadows of overhead clouds float across the valley. He felt Alfred rest his chin on the top of his head and smiled, content. This was their favorite place, a view all their own. They had grown up together after Arthur's family had moved to the village, and they had grown close as years had passed. First as friends, then as...more. Their sort of relationship was not unheard of, certainly, but the both of them had opted to keep this between the two of them, at least until they had finalized their plans. Alfred wanted to marry him, he had already made that point clear, and Arthur was more than happy about it, but the time simply was not right yet. They had yet to find land to build a home, and they both were needed by their respective families at present; Arthur to help run his father's shop and Alfred to work on the family farm.

But, Arthur thought to himself as he took Alfred's hand into his, he was more than happy to wait a while.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Alfred murmured.

"Oh, you know, us," Arthur answered as Alfred laughed.

"Me too," he admitted as he twisted him around so they were facing each other. Arthur pecked him on the lips, earning a pouty frown in return as Alfred mumbled "that's it?"

"No, of course not," Arthur teased as he pulled him in for a proper kiss.

"That's more like it," Alfred commented with a satisfied grin, "I think we ought to tell them soon," he blurted suddenly.

"Are you sure?" Arthur asked after a moment's pause, "I thought we had decided to put things on hold for a bit,"

"Yeah, but I think we should tell them sooner rather than later. At least let them know, so it won't be as much of a shock," Alfred reasoned, "I'm not planning on waiting around for much longer, you know,"

"Yes, I know," Arthur said with a smile, "But your mother is going to lose her mind," had warned as Alfred burst into raucous laughter. Arthur's to-be mother-in-law was one of the kindest women he had ever had the pleasure of meeting, bright and bubbly like her son. She had always taken a shine to Arthur, and had long teased the two of them about when they were going to 'just get married already.' She was likely to bounce off of the walls after hearing their announcement.

"I can't wait," Alfred admitted, "I wanna tell them now,"

"Right now?" Arthur laughed, arching an eyebrow at him, "I think I need some time before I go bursting into my house and tell my parents that I'm getting married, Alfred,"

"Sometime soon, then? Please?" Alfred asked sweetly, leaning down and kissing him.

"Soon," Arthur promised as he nuzzled into Alfred's chest.

Yes. Soon.

* * *

They called to him that night, coming to his window and tapping their tiny fingertips upon the glass to the point where he could no longer ignore them. He climbed out of bed and cautiously approached, mouth dry.

They gestured for him to come outside, and he reluctantly obeyed. He tiptoed past his parents' and brothers' rooms, throwing on a coat and stepping out into the night. He shivered; the air was damp, his skin clammy.

They were waiting for him, clustered around the front steps in an ethereal half-circle of blue light. He froze, taking a step backward in fright.

"What do you want?" he whispered, voice cracking.

They looked to one another, then back at him a few times. They giggled, speaking to him in what was probably supposed to be soothing voices as they beckoned him to come closer. He gulped, drawing a shaky breath and mentally cursing his damned curiosity as he stepped toward them.

He yelped as they abruptly shifted with a sound like a gust of wind and appeared as one unit, a tendril of blue light that roared ahead of him like a flame. It darted left, then right, then slowly moved forward.

Arthur blinked, looking at the towering flame in trepidation. What were these things? Why did no one else see them?

And what did they want with him?

"Am I to follow you?" he muttered to himself as the flame steadily moved forward, into the surrounding woods around his home.

Clenching his fists, he started after it, looking around wildly for any signs of animals lurking in the underbrush. Not that it was helpful; he couldn't see anything save for the soft blue of the light ahead of him. This was completely idiotic. He could die out here, lured into gods knew what, and no one would know. Nobody would ever find him and it would be entirely thanks to his stupidity.

 _"What am I doing?"_ he thought to himself as the flame led him into a rather thick patch of briars. He snarled as he struggled to untangle himself, eventually abandoning his coat in favor of plunging ahead.

"Well do you have to go so bloody FAST?" he growled; the flame abruptly stopped and elegantly spun in-place, a delicate blue top dancing in the black night. Arthur watched it for a moment, entranced. How was it that so many tiny creatures could converge into one like that...?

He stopped dead, as if a hand had pressed against his chest.

He hadn't even realized that he had been moving, caught up in the glow of the flame.

Arthur whirled around, desperately trying to take in his surroundings.

He was standing in a clearing, illuminated by soft blue light. Large white stones littered the ground, weathered and retaken by forest. They were arranged in a jagged circle, roughly hewn and made even moreso by time. Rubble of a former building? Some sort of fortress?

He stepped forward and crouched in front of one of them, frowning. In the flickering light, he could make out something from beyond the tangle of vines and tufts of lichen.

"Inscriptions?" Arthur murmured as he reached out and began clearing the debris.

He hissed as his fingers grazing the stone became hot, as if the stone itself were on fire. He shook his hand, taking a moment to gingerly rub at the sore pads of his fingertips.

He felt his mouth fall open as the inscriptions upon the stone began to glow, the same strange blue light that surrounded him and had led him to this place. In spite of his love for learning fragments of whatever language he could get his hands on from books in his father's shop, he was unable to read what was written upon the stones. It was flowing and elegant, spirals and curls which appeared to have no beginning or end.

"You have finally arrived," a voice whispered from behind him, soft and soothing.

"Who are you?" Arthur demanded as he whirled around. The blue flame shook, then abruptly shattered into a million tiny spheres of light. He shielded his eyes, peeking out reluctantly to find himself surrounded, orbs of all sizes bobbing gently in midair around him.

"You have seen the magic," the voice continued, again sounding as if it were from behind him, "Now, you shall hear it, and you shall speak it,"

"What?!" Arthur blurted as a sound like wind erupted from behind him. He spun around; the inscriptions were unfurling from the stone, twisting and writhing in midair in a blazing, crackling tendril of blue flame.

"...what?" Arthur repeated, softer this time.

The spheres suddenly converged around him, spiraling toward him in a tight circle as the runes wound themselves around and around, rising higher into the air--

The tendrils of blue light descended upon him with a crackle, hot like lightning as Arthur went rigid, eyes wide as burning heat passed into him.

It was over in a flash, bringing him to his knees as the elegant flow of words disappeared.

He fell onto his side, gasping for breath as the orbs of blue slowly fell to the earth around him, glowing snowflakes in the dark glen. They were speaking to him again, murmuring words of comfort.

The last thought he had before darkness took him was this:

He could understand them.


	2. Chapter 2

"Arthur!" someone cried.

Arthur moaned softly as he was jostled, trying to identify the voice. Oh, he hurt. His entire body throbbed, every muscle screaming in protest as he was moved.

"Arthur, please! Come on, snap out of it!"

He cracked his eyes open as a sea of faces came into view, the first of which was Alfred's. He looked beyond worried, blue eyes wide in a pale face.

"Oh thank the gods," his mother sobbed as she reached out and stroked his forehead, "Arthur, are you all right?"

"What happened?" his father demanded. Arthur hesitated; what exactly _had_ happened?

"...Arthur?" Alfred asked softly, worriedly.

"I...don't know," Arthur faltered, though his answer was honest.

"Are you hurt?" Alfred asked as he gingerly gathered him up into his arms; Arthur winced.

"I'll take that as a yes," Alfred muttered, "We need to get him to the doctor," he declared as Arthur's parents nodded in agreement. Ah, Alfred was so nice and warm, his arms strong and secure.

He drifted off, feeling the vibrations of Alfred's voice rumbling in his chest.

* * *

He had spent roughly a week in the care of the village doctor, lying in a simple cot as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Every time he had awoken, Alfred had been there to greet him, save for the times where he had fallen asleep in his chair at Arthur's bedside. His mother had been there as well, and Alfred's parents and his brothers on occasion, but the first person he always saw was Alfred. It was clear that he hadn't left the room since Arthur arrived.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Alfred teased as Arthur awoke.

"Hey yourself," he managed with a wince.

"You still hurting?" Alfred asked, "I can have the doctor--"

"No, it doesn't help," Arthur dismissed with a frown as he struggled to keep his eyes open, "All the medicine does is make me drowsy. I can't talk while I'm like that,"

Alfred nodded, reaching forward and placing his hand on Arthur's forehead.

"You seem a little better this time," he praised, "Do you want some water?"

"No," Arthur croaked, "Alfred, listen to me: something happened in the woods and there was this blue light and these _things_ and I could..." he trailed off.

"Shhh," Alfred soothed as he took his hand, "All right, calm down. Deep breath, okay?"

Arthur inhaled deeply, slowly exhaling it as Alfred looked on.

"How did you find me?" Arthur asked.

Alfred shifted in his seat, frowning.

"I felt...weird. Like something was wrong," he admitted with a shrug, "And when I came to your house, your family was worried sick looking for you, so I went searching in the woods,"

"And you managed to find me?" Arthur blurted, surprised.

"Well, I found your coat first," Alfred explained as he squeezed his hand gently, "Then I just kept going until I found you. Your folks were right behind me," he cleared his throat as his voice cracked, "Gods, Arthur, you scared the hell out of me. What were you doing out there? What happened?"

Arthur hesitated, drawing in a deep breath.

"I'm not sure," Arthur admitted, "But..."

It was the most quiet Arthur had ever heard Alfred be. He was listening intently, riveted, with a furrowed brow and thoughtful frown on his lips. He waited until Arthur's recounting of the events in the woods was completed before speaking, rubbing his thumb along the back of Arthur's hand.

"What stones, though?" Alfred asked with a thoughtful frown.

"The white ones in the clearing, I already told you," Arthur said flatly, "...what?" he added as Alfred slowly shook his head.

"There was nothing else there, Arthur," he admitted, "You were by yourself, just lying on the ground,"

"But...what?" Arthur spluttered, running his hands through his hair, "That isn't right. They were right there, and there was blue magic and...this isn't making any sense at all, is it?" he trailed off sadly.

"Magic?" Alfred whispered, as if afraid someone would overhear, "As in...Spades magic?"

"I don't know," Arthur whispered back, throat tight with terror, "Alfred, what does it mean?"

"I'm not sure, Sweetheart," he admitted, "but we're going to find out. It's going to be all right, Arthur, I promise,"

But it wasn't.

Not at all.

He had only been out of the doctor's home for four days when the Jack of Spades had arrived in the village. He did not travel alone, of course, surrounded by armed guards and scribes, all of them donned in the regal azures and ceruleans of Spades. He had pinpointed Arthur immediately, saying that the Magic of Spades had called out to him for the first time in eighteen long years. He had spotted him having lunch with Alfred in his front yard, and had approached while his entourage remained a few yards back. He couldn't see them, but he was certain his family members were clustered in the front of the house behind him, no doubt looking on worriedly.

"Hello, young man," he greeted with an elegant bow, "I am Wang Yao, Jack of Spades,"

"H-hello," Arthur blurted as he stood and awkwardly bowed. Alfred followed suit from beside him, clearly nervous. The Jack's cold brown eyes flicked over Alfred, something unreadable in his expression as he turned his attention back onto Arthur.

"Do you know why I am here?" he asked.

"No, Sir," Arthur squeaked.

"The Queen of Spades has awoken at long last," the Jack stated with a barely perceptible grin as he extended his hand out to him. Something silver was in his fist, connected to a delicate silver chain.

Arthur hesitated, looking at him questioningly.

"Please, take it," the Jack instructed; Arthur obeyed and looked down at the object in his hands. It was a pocket watch, carved into the shape of a Spade. The face was finely crafted, etchings of midnight blue forming intricate patterns and spirals around the outer edge. But...

"Something is wrong?" the Jack asked, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"It isn't ticking, Sir," Arthur stated.

"True," the Jack admitted, "And what else?" he asked.

"There are no numbers, Sir," Arthur stated after a pause.

"Indeed," the Jack stated matter-of-factly, "But what _are_ there instead?"

Arthur inspected the watch, frowning. Where the numbers should have been were tiny, barely visible symbols.

"Runes," he answered.

"Is that all?" the Jack asked, "Look closer,"

Arthur squinted, trying to see them better. The more he looked, the more clearly he could see them, and they weren't stationary. Tiny, elegant scrawl danced across the surface of the watch, rotating slowly.

"T-they're moving, Sir," he blurted as Alfred shifted nervously next to him.

"Read me what they say," the Jack ordered.

Arthur looked back at him, mouth agape as he tried to explain.

"But Sir, I'm afraid that I can't," he stated as the Jack's eyes bored into his own. It was terrifying, as if he was looking at his soul.

"Are you sure?" the Jack asked, frowning, "Take another look,"

Arthur reluctantly did so, staring at the surface of the watch. The symbols were all moving, drifting...but not in the same direction. Some were floating to the right, others to the left, rotating clockwise and counterclockwise.

"...they're supposed to move in the same direction," he mumbled to himself as he frowned at the watch. The runes seemed to move faster as the words left his lips. Yes, this was right. Now if he could just...there. He looked up as the symbols passed through the glass face and into the air in front of him, hovering quietly as they glowed a deep blue.

"Now, to order them," he murmured, watching as the runes danced around each other and assembled themselves into a circle, "...and put them back," he added quietly, watching them sparkle as they returned to their proper places around the slender needles of the clock's hands. He felt oddly satisfied, staring into the watch with a small smile on his face.

It abruptly disappeared as the clock began ticking.

He looked at the Jack, eyes wide.

"...Arthur," Alfred whispered from beside him. Arthur whirled to face him, clutching onto his arms for support as he began to panic. Alfred looked just as surprised as he felt, blinking at him from behind his lenses.

"At long last, the ancient language has been spoken once again," the Jack praised, "I welcome you, Queen of Spades, wielder of our kingdom's magic," he said as he bowed; the entire group he had brought with him did the same.

"What...?" Arthur managed, shaking his head, "No," he stated firmly, "No, I can't be,"

"But you are," the Jack insisted, "What is your name, Queen of Spades?"

Arthur couldn't speak, throat gripped by sheer panic. This was wrong. All of this was--

"Arthur Kirkland, Sir," his father proudly stated from behind him, "He's my son,"

Arthur's stomach sank.

"Very well," the Jack stated with a slow nod, "I am pleased to announce, Arthur Kirkland, that you are now the reigning Queen of Spades. We will be escorting you back to Castle Windsor immediately--"

"The hell you will!" Alfred shouted, clutching onto Arthur and glaring at him. The Jack arched a slender brow, looking Alfred over with...something. Arthur couldn't decipher his expression, especially not now. Now he felt as if he was going to be sick.

"Just...just give him a day, please?" Alfred pleaded, voice cracking.

"Alfred," Arthur warned.

"Please," Alfred repeated, ignoring him, "Just one day to get things together. To...say good-bye,"

Arthur's heart sank into his stomach at that, tears threatening to well in his eyes. This was insane. This wasn't real. He was going to marry Alfred. They were going to have a farm of their very own. Alfred was going to plant an apple orchard for him. And pears...Alfred loved pears.

The Jack was quiet for several moments, studying Alfred carefully as he frowned.

"Very well," he conceded, "But tomorrow morning, the Queen shall be escorted to the castle where he _belongs_ ," he added with an air of finality. He turned toward his group of scribes, who were furiously scribbling from where they were perched, surrounded by guards.

Arthur barely managed to withhold himself from sobbing, clinging to Alfred tightly as he rocked him back and forth.

He was the Queen.

And he was being taken away.

* * *

The village was more than excited to have a Queen in their midst. To think that a tiny little village such as theirs could bear one of the monarchs of Spades was incredible, sparking a hastily put-together celebration which Arthur would have given anything not to attend. People were dancing in the streets, laughing as they merrily passed around loaves of bread and whatever harvested fruits and vegetables they could get their hands on.

Arthur, however, couldn't bring himself to eat a thing. Alfred sat by his side, touching his hand encouragingly and throwing him forced smiles. He couldn't fool Arthur; the pain in his eyes was only amplified by his glasses. Matters only became worse as day turned to evening, when questions of "I wonder who the King will be?" and "The King usually turns up right after the Queen, am I right?" began burbling through the cacophony of voices.

The King.

Oh, gods, no.

He slipped out from his seat at the table and toward the woods, Alfred following close behind.

* * *

"Arthur, wait," he called as he caught up to him and wrapped him into his arms.

"I can't do this," Arthur said, voice tight as he buried his face into Alfred's chest.

"Yes you can," Alfred insisted as he stroked his hair, "You have to. For Spades,"

"To hell with Spades!" Arthur cried as tears rolled down his face, "I can't leave you. I can't be expected to marry someone I don't love. I just...I just can't,"

Alfred murmured words of comfort to him, rubbing his back.

"Alfred," he said finally, looking up at him. Alfred immediately reached down and wiped his tears with his thumbs, cupping his face.

"Hey, Sweetheart," Alfred answered softly, smiling through his own tears, "It's going to be all right. You have to believe that,"

"I...I want it to be you," Arthur blurted, reaching up and crashing their lips together. Alfred looked at him, confused.

"I want you to be my first," he elaborated, feeling his face reddening. But now was not the time for modesty, "I am not about to give myself to anyone but you,"

"Arthur--"

He cut him off with a kiss, pulling him onto the ground.

* * *

"I'll write you letters," Alfred promised as they lay on the grass, limbs entwined, "Every single day. I'll even deliver them myself if they'll let me,"

"I'd like that, Darling," Arthur whispered, leaning up to kiss him again. He was sated, physically satisfied, but filled with a gnawing sadness. Sure, his future husband would not have the pleasure of taking his virtue, but the idea of living without Alfred was unbearable.

After a time, Alfred walked him home. He agreed to stay in the guest bedroom for the night, to ensure that he would be there when the Jack returned to collect Arthur in the morning. Arthur watched him walk down the hallway, heart heavy.

"Arthur, dear?" his mother called from the kitchen. He entered with trepidation, tightly clutching his hands together. His mother was wearing her shawl, dressed to go outside.

"Go for a walk with me, will you?" she asked, "Not too far, just...a little ways,"

Arthur nodded, following her outside so that they could speak. She took his hands into hers, smiling up at him. He braced himself; he was surely about to receive a speech about how wonderful it was to be the mother of a Queen.

"Arthur, I know about what you and Alfred were planning," she said instead, causing Arthur's mouth to fall open, "It's all right. I figured you two would fall in love eventually. I could tell from the beginning, just like Clover did,"

Arthur nodded stiffly; his mother and Alfred's must have been talking about them more than he had realized.

"And it's _all right_ ," she reiterated, "And I'm glad that you found someone to love. But, Arthur, you are going to have a husband very soon--"

"Stop it," Arthur hissed, wrenching his hands from hers and folding his arms over his chest.

"I'm sorry, dear," she said, tears welling in her eyes, "But I only want what is best for you. No one must ever know about you and Alfred, from this point onward. You are walking into a different life now, a different role. Your King is to be your one and only lover. Do you understand me?" she added pointedly.

Arthur couldn't speak. His mother embraced him, holding him tightly as he cried.


	3. Chapter 3

The ride to the capital city was painfully awkward. He hadn't slept all night, curled up beside Alfred in the guest room as he ran his fingers through Arthur's hair and tried to comfort him. He had embraced his parents and Alfred--twice--before being escorted into the carriage and taken away from the only home he had ever known. He had looked back and watched Alfred wave until he disappeared, eyes watery and heart aching.

The Jack was a quiet, rather austere sort. He only spoke twice for the entirety of that day, leaving Arthur alone with his sadness. He fell asleep at some point, awakening to find that it was now mid-afternoon.

"Welcome back," the Jack stated dryly as Arthur stirred.

"Where are we?" Arthur managed as he rubbed his eyes. He felt groggy, mouth dry.

"A little over halfway there," he answered, turning back to the thick book in his hands.

"How long...?" Arthur ventured.

"Until we arrive?" the Jack finished for him, mahogany eyes flicking up to meet his gaze, "Well it's already been nearly two days. It took me the better part of three to get to your village, with all of the winding roads around the lakes in this region,"

"I've been asleep for _two days_?" Arthur blurted in shock.

"You must have been exhausted," the Jack reasoned with a shrug as he set the book beside him on his seat, "I would assume that you are hungry," he added as he rummaged through a basket on his other side and produced a parcel of some sort. He passed it over to Arthur, who murmured his thanks. He frowned; the food was strange-looking, like a pair of tiny, cylindrical loaves of bread. They were sealed at both ends, folded neatly and...fried?

"They are a dish from my homeland," the Jack explained with a small smile, "I do hope you will find them satisfactory,"

Arthur reluctantly bit into one of the strange foods with a crunch, relieved to find that it was quite good. He smiled as he chewed, nodding his head in gratitude.

"The former Queen was quite fond of them as well," the Jack mused as he folded his hands into his lap, "Tell me: how did the Magic of Spades call to you?"

Arthur paused to swallow his food before answering.

"I'm not entirely sure," he admitted, "I was asleep, when these...creatures summoned me outside,"

"Creatures?" the Jack asked with a frown.

"Tiny little people, only they kind of glowed this bright blue color...you think I'm crazy, don't you?" he blurted suddenly, embarrassed.

"They led you somewhere, did they not? And they showed you strange symbols?" the Jack deduced as Arthur slowly nodded.

"The Magic of Spades is rather unusual in how it reveals itself to the Queen," the Jack said with a sigh, producing a bundle of food for himself and setting it onto his lap, "It happens differently for each, from what I understand. I find it interesting to compare stories,"

Arthur nodded, an awkward silence filling the carriage as the two of them quietly ate.

"That boy," the Jack said suddenly, causing Arthur to jump in surprise, "The one who insisted that you stay in the village. Who is he?" he asked.

Arthur hesitated before answering, heart in his mouth as a wave of despair washed over him. The Jack didn't seem to notice, patiently awaiting an answer.

"He's...his name is Alfred," he answered shakily.

"And he is your friend, yes?" the Jack asked mechanically.

"My best friend," Arthur stated.

"Hm," the Jack said as he returned to his book.

"Why do you ask?" Arthur blurted, unable to stop himself. The Jack threw him a cool stare with an arched brow, marking the page of his book with his finger.

"Something is odd about him," the Jack responded, "But I am unable to discern why at the moment,"

"...odd?" Arthur pried, intrigued.

"There is a rather powerful aura about him," the Jack said matter-of-factly, "But that could just be that he has a strong presence. Everyone's aura is different,"

He paused as Arthur looked at him in confusion.

"You...are unfamiliar with auras?" the Jack asked as if perplexed.

"I'm afraid so, Sir," Arthur admitted with a shrug.

The Jack sighed, shutting the book with a rather dramatic clap and leaning forward.

"Then I will teach you," he stated firmly, "Now pay attention,"

* * *

_Dear Arthur,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and loving your fancy new home! I really hope to come visit someday really soon. Are there ships inside?! If there are, you'd better let me on one of them! How huge is it on the inside? Are there stained glass windows like we'd imagined? And let me guess: every single thing in there is blue, isn't it? Remember when we used to think the walls were made of sapphires? They aren't, are they? Have they painted a portrait of you yet? I would love to see it!_

_Nothing too new to report here. You are still the talk of the town, about how great a leader you'll be. I know they're right. Have you learned any magic yet? I'm sure you'll be great at it. You've always been great at everything. I hope they're treating you well. The Jack seemed like he would be boring as hell. I hope you have some other people to talk to besides that guy._

_I miss you, and I'll write again soon. Please write back as soon as you can!_

_Talk to you soon,_

_Alfred_

Arthur held the letter to his chest, taking a moment to breathe deeply as he closed his eyes. His head was pounding, his magical training having been the most difficult he had encountered thusfar. It had been three weeks since his arrival at Castle Windsor, and it had been a challenge. Yes, the castle was lovely (although, sadly, there were no ships within its walls), with winding turrets and courtyards with flowering trees, burbling man-made waterfalls and streams strewn across the castle grounds for him to roam.

That was, when he wasn't training. Yao Wang was very strict with his scheduling, ensuring that he gained mastery of the Magic of Spades as soon as possible. Arthur had been schooled in auras, both in reading them in people and in harnessing those of the environment around him. This, in essence, was the Magic of Spades; understanding and attaining communion with the aura and energy of the world, the ebb and flow of time. It all made so much sense, from the texts he read in the grand library.

Unfortunately, Spadian magic was far less logical in practice. And although the Jack of Spades far excelled him at reading the auras of humans, he had little skill in harnessing "Magic." This was a task left for Arthur to learn on his own (or "relearn," as Yao was quick to point out). After that, it was time for dinner in a room devoid of anyone save for the occasional servant (the monarchs were supposed to dine alone, apparently, when not entertaining) and then off to bed. He cried himself to sleep more often than he cared to admit, praying to whatever gods were listening that he would find a way out of this. There had to be someone else who could qualify as Queen. Someone else had to know Magic better than he could...perhaps they would discover that they were wrong in identifying him as Queen and send him on his merry way. It was still possible, wasn't it? He knew Clubs had once crowned a false Queen, many years before the famed Elizabeta ascended to the throne. But that person had lied in order to be declared Queen, though, if memory served. Arthur didn't care; he could still dream.

Still, the one constant ray of hope in his otherwise miserable days was the bundle of letters from Alfred. True to his word, he had written to him daily. Arthur had done his best to keep up and write him back, but had fallen behind as of late.

He sat at his desk, a polished oak one with silver inlays, and produced a large lavender-colored quill from the ink bottle at his side. He smiled, retrieving a piece of parchment and elegantly writing the date. He had a lot to catch Alfred up on.

* * *

_Dear Arthur,_

_I hope your training is going well. Have you learned how to make stuff float in midair yet? I would love to see you do that. That would definitely make farm work a lot easier, wouldn't it? And you tell that boring Yao guy to shove it the next time he scolds you for not learning fast enough. What a jackass._

_Around here, things are okay. The harvest isn't going as well as we'd hoped, though, with the drought and all, but we'll be all right. That's why I haven't been writing as often. I'm sorry about that. We always manage to pull through, right? Your parents' business is still going strong, so that's at least some good news out of here._

_I miss you terribly, Arthur. Not a day goes by where I don't think about you and how you are. I hate to think of you being lonely. Please try to cheer up. Things will get better. They have to. Hang in there, I'm going to try and arrange to visit you soon._

_All my love,_

_Alfred_

Arthur sighed, massaging his throbbing temples as he read the letter over and over again. Alfred's notes weren't as frequent as before, this last one arriving a little over three weeks prior, but he knew it wasn't Alfred's fault. He was responsible for a rather large farm, after all. He just didn't have time. It wasn't as if he didn't _want_ to write him.

...right?

He sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. The pain in his heart was becoming unbearable. He hardly slept nowadays, and combined with the strain of memorizing the history of Spades, learning Magic, and trying to understand treaties and trade with other nations, he was exhausted. And he hadn't even been crowned yet, tradition forbidding so until the King was found.

He sincerely hoped that day would never come.

He looked up as a soft knock came from his door.

"Your Majesty?" a woman's voice called, "I've brought you some tea,"

"Thank you, Morgyn," he called, furiously wiping his eyes, "Please come in,"

Morgyn entered the room with a bow, holding an elegantly painted teacup and saucer in her tiny hands. Motherly and kind, Morgyn was one of the few servants who actually took the time to converse with him. Not that the other servants were rude or anything, but Morgyn gave him more time to speak than most. She reminded him very much of Alfred's mother Clover, bright and optimistic.

"Here we are," she said with a smile, the edges of her sky-blue eyes crinkling, "Now let's just--Your Majesty? Are you all right?" she asked worriedly, noting Arthur's puffy eyes.

"I'm fine, thanks," he lied.

"Heard that one before," she snorted, closing the door to the room and retrieving a chair. She placed it next to his desk, frowning at him worriedly. He caught her gaze lingering over the bundle of letters he had taken out of his desk drawer before she spoke, "Tell me what's troubling you," she said finally.

Arthur drew a deep breath and slowly released it.

"I can't do this," he said finally, voice tight, "It's too much,"

"Ah," Morgyn said as she reached out and placed her hand over Arthur's, "I understand, Your Majesty. I'm sure that all of this is overwhelming. It's only been a few months, though. You can't be expected to learn everything in a day, you know," she pointed out.

Arthur should have just accepted her wisdom and wished her on her way, but he didn't. He burst into tears instead, covering his hands with his face as his bewildered servant tried to comfort him. A few months. _Months_ that he had been away from his family, from Alfred.

And now he had stopped writing, for an entire three weeks. Arthur had written to him multiple times and received no answers. It was as if...

...as if he had given up on him.

"It's all right, it's all right..." Morgyn soothed as she rubbed his back, but it did nothing for his tears. They simply wouldn't stop, pouring out of his broken heart.

Another knock forced his palms from his eyes as he glared at the door. It was blurred through his watery eyes, hateful and dark as he frowned at it angrily.

"Go away," he croaked.

"Your Majesty," Yao's crisp voice called through the door, "I wanted to inform you," he stated as he cracked the door open and stuck his head inside, "That th--" he stopped, obviously surprised at the state his Queen was in. Arthur stood, glaring at him as he furiously wiped his face.

"That _what_ , Yao?" he demanded shakily as Morgyn tutted anxiously for him to sit back down.

"...the King of Spades has been found, Your Majesty," the Jack answered slowly.

Arthur's world abruptly disappeared, Morgyn's scream the last thing that he heard.

* * *

 **Notes** : Those were supposed to be eggrolls, btw.


	4. Chapter 4

"Here we are, Your Majesty," Morgyn said kindly as she set the tray in front of him. It was filled with several different foods; a sweet bun, crackers, an apple, a lump of bread with a cheese the servants had come to find that he liked, and a cup of tea. Arthur stared at it in silence, watching the sugar cube bob lazily from within the teacup.

"Please try to at least have some tea," she pleaded as she took a seat across the table from him. Arthur had little energy for anything over the past three days, spending them in a sort of depressed stupor. He had managed to stumble into the gardens this morning, for a change of scenery (and to make it more difficult for the servants to find him). Unfortunately, Morgyn hadn't been deterred. He had barely been seated for fifteen minutes before she had arrived, bearing a tray.

"I'm not hungry," he said quietly.

"Maybe so, but you haven't eaten in days," she scolded, worry lacing her voice, "You can't just sit here and starve to death, you know," she added.

Arthur remained silent, a defiant _"says who?"_ responding sharply from within his mind.

"Arthur," she stated softly, causing him to look at her; she never addressed him by his name. Her eyes were glazed with tears, brow furrowed in worry, "Whether you realize it or not, I see you not only as my Queen, but as my _son_. It pains me to see you torture yourself like this,"

Arthur turned away, forlornly looking down at his teacup.

"Arthur, please," she begged, "Believe it or not, we do care about you. I'm speaking for everyone here, all of the servants. We adore you, you know,"

"Thanks," he answered hollowly, suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to curl into a ball and sleep. That would be nice, wouldn't it? Maybe he'd get lucky and he would end up sleeping right through the King's arrival.

"Arthur?" a voice suddenly asked. Arthur paused; he had been expecting Yao to come sneaking up behind him with his "husband," this stranger that haunted him, this... _entity_ , this--

Arthur frowned; that wasn't Yao. That wasn't Yao at all.

He slowly rose from his seat and turned around.

"Hey, Arthur," Alfred said with a wide grin, taking a step forward.

"...Alfred?" Arthur said quietly, hardly believing what he was seeing. There he was, just as he remembered; tall, lean, and bespectacled, with wheat-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Arthur!" Alfred cried as he lunged forward and embraced him. Arthur looped his arms around him and squeezed, nuzzling his face into his chest. He was warm; he was _real_.

"Are you all right?" Alfred asked worriedly as he looked him over, "You look horrible. Are you sick?"

"You shouldn't have come," Arthur blurted, clutching onto the back of his seat for support. Oh, he didn't want Alfred to have to see this. Him being handed over to another man was horrific enough without Alfred having to witness it.

Alfred blinked at him quizzically as he shook his head.

"What?" he asked, "Why not?"

"Haven't you heard? The King of Spades has been found!" Arthur cried, smacking Alfred on the arm as hard as he could manage, "It's bad enough that I'm being forced to marry a stranger and now YOU show up! After ignoring me for nearly a month!"

Alfred looked genuinely confused, rubbing his arm where Arthur had struck him. A few moments of tense silence passed as Arthur looked past him, fully expecting to see his husband-to-be. He didn't want Alfred to see him, to have to witness this nightmare of a life he was living. To his dismay, the Jack of Spades had approached while he was speaking to Alfred, his expression unreadable.

"Alfred, I didn't want you to have to see this," he lamented, "I'm so sorry," he added as he steeled himself and looked to the Jack.

"Where is he, Yao?" he asked softly.

Yao didn't answer, looking over at Morgyn in what could have been confusion? Yao was impossible to read, even though Arthur saw him virtually on a daily basis.

"...it's _me_ , Arthur," Alfred stated flatly, as if annoyed, " _I'm_ the King of Spades,"

Arthur slowly blinked, allowing the information to sink in as Alfred took hold of his arm.

"You need to sit down," he mumbled worriedly as he guided Arthur into his seat.

"You're...you're the King of Spades," Arthur stated as Alfred knelt onto the ground in front of him, hardly daring to believe himself.

"You bet I am, Sweetheart," he answered with a mischievous grin, "And I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here with you,"

A swell of joy bubbled up within him as he leaned down and embraced Alfred again, halfway between laughing and sobbing as Alfred held him tightly.

"But you stopped writing," Arthur spluttered as he looked at him. He wasn't quite sure what he was feeling; it was like every emotion was bombarding him at once.

"I did," Alfred sighed, shaking his head, "Things got out of hand with the farm, and then I got discovered as King, and...well, I figured I'd surprise you by showing up. Looks like I screwed that up, though," he added glumly as he reached up and brushed his thumbs across Arthur's tear-streaked face.

"I'm sorry," he added, casting his eyes downward.

"I-it's all right," Arthur reassured him, taking both of his hands into his own, "It's all right now,"

* * *

"Arthur?" he asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Hm?" Arthur answered, jolted out of his trance.

"Something wrong? You're staring out into space," Alfred stated.

"No, I was just reminiscing," Arthur answered as he took his husband's hand and squeezed. Alfred flashed him a shy smile, squeezing back as they sat side by side in the carriage. They were due to arrive at Shunrai Palace in a few short hours, to meet with the new King of Hearts. This was an important meeting for both kingdoms, for the future of the fairly recent trade between the two.

"It'll be interesting to see if this guy is anything like Heracles," Alfred pointed out.

"Yes, it will. He was a great negotiator," Arthur admitted with a thoughtful frown, "But this King is quite young and inexperienced; I'm sure Kiku will be doing most of the talking at our meeting,"

"Kiku _talks_?" Alfred asked sarcastically; Arthur smacked him on the arm.

"Stop it, you," he teased as Alfred pretended that he had been hurt, "Kiku is highly intelligent. He has been ruling Hearts alone for many years,"

"It's hard to tell how many years anymore, isn't it?" Alfred said reflectively, "I mean we've already been crowned for...twenty?" he guessed.

"Twenty-seven, Love," Arthur corrected.

"Holy crap," Alfred laughed, "Time flies, eh?"

"Indeed," Arthur agreed as he stretched, "It seems like yesterday that you arrived in the gardens and told me you were the King,"

"Yeah, and if memory serves me correctly, you hit me," Alfred pointed out.

"You deserved it," Arthur said flatly, crossing his arms.

"Maybe," Alfred admitted with a sigh, draping his arm over Arthur's shoulders, "Still, this is going to be something,"

"It most certainly will be," Arthur agreed as he drew a deep breath, "I just hope it pans out well for Spades,"

He pulled the curtain aside, watching the sun begin to rise over the sloping hills of Kiku's kingdom.

"Me too," Alfred added quietly.

* * *

This really doesn't have any place in the general sequence of events that I've established so far, I don't think, but I liked how it turned out so here it is. :)


End file.
